


Sunday Morning

by caseyvalhalla



Category: No. 6 - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caseyvalhalla/pseuds/caseyvalhalla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inukashi goes to Shion's place for breakfast and meets an old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Written and posted to tumblr back in June for No. 6 Week, Day 7: Post-Reunion.
> 
> Notes from the original post: "This is sort of loosely set in a post-series RP universe that utilizes a hodgepodge of anime and novel canon so if anything is off or confusing that is why… thanks for a great week everyone!"

Inukashi had told Shion once a long time ago that the best way to manage their once-monthly Sunday morning breakfasts was simply to unlock his front door and wait. They never operated on anything resembling a schedule—Inukashi had never learned to read a watch and Rikiga was nothing if not profoundly unreliable when there wasn’t money involved. Half the time Inukashi had to track him down and drag him out of whatever hungover funk he’d fallen into the night before and march him across town with a bare minimum of two dogs at his heels, bellyaching all the way. It was impossible not to hear them coming for several blocks, at least.

Rikiga had been on the wagon since the turn of the New Year, though, and so far he remained there—setting a new record for his various attempts at ditching the booze. Inukashi suspected it had a lot to do with how pleased Shion and his mother both looked anytime Rikiga appeared before either of them, coherent and sober. Rikiga always flushed with the attention and Inukashi never missed an opportunity to tease him.

Regardless, it was still impossible not to hear them coming.

“Pretty snappy dresser for a breakfast in, aren’t you old man?”

“I’m a man who knows how to look civilized, not that you would know the first thing about that.”

“More like a walking mid-life crisis hard up for a date. Did you forget the flower bouquet or do you mean to pick some out of the window boxes? Because now’s your chance.”

“Mouthy brat. Didn’t your mother teach you to respect your elders?”

“You’re right, old man, I’d definitely respect you more if you were a dog.”

They didn’t so much enter the little clinic as crash through it, the cluster of bells on the door jangling in alarm as it was thrust open and slammed shut, and Inukashi flipped the lock before moving on, more out of a lingering paranoia than anything else. Shion lived in a good neighborhood and crime had dropped significantly since the walls came down, even in the part of the new city that had once been the West Block. Shion offered to make a spare key once, but Inukashi flat out refused for the same reason.

_Don’t be such an airhead. What if someone stole it from me? You and Azami would be in danger, and it would be my fault. No thanks._

Rikiga was on a long rant about the current state of youth in the world that Inukashi tuned out. The larger of the two dogs was sniffing at something on the floor and they turned just in time to see something small and black scurry away into a corner. A mouse? “Hey, leave it alone.” Shion could set a trap if he wanted, but it wasn’t Inukashi’s business and they didn’t want the dog making a mess of the clinic trying to catch it. “Stay by the door and keep watch, okay?”

The dog whined, shrinking down to its belly on the floor.

“Oh hush, I’ll send Azami out to play with you, okay?”

Rikiga reached the door to the apartment first and blundered through it in his usual fashion. Shion had already started deflecting his barrage of questions by the time Inukashi pushed the door closed, the brown dog at their heels bounding ahead into the kitchen for ear scratches and a slice of bacon.

“Have you been eating well? You’re still too skinny! I should have brought some eggs and bread with me—“

“It’s fine, Rikiga-san.” Shion had both hands held up in front of his chest, fending off the older man’s concerns with a placid smile. His hair was rumpled and he’d clearly just woken, still in his pajamas with a cardigan hastily thrown over the top, back to the stove and a sizzling griddle.

“But you can’t be bringing in much, just running a volunteer clinic. Certainly not enough to support a child on top of everything—“

“We really are fine,” Shion assured him.

Inukashi huffed, dropping into a chair at the table, arms and legs askew. Something was off about the tiny apartment somehow, but they hadn’t quite put their finger on it yet. “Honestly, old man, you go through this same argument every month. Get a clue. Shion knows what he’s doing.”

“Now listen here, brat, I have nothing but faith in—“

“Would you like some coffee, Rikiga-san?”

Shion’s interjection was quicker than usual and Inukashi frowned, tilting their head back to get a sweeping view of the living area. Both bedroom doors were closed. “Keep it down, gramps, Azami is still asleep.” But why was Shion’s door closed?

Suddenly Rikiga was made of apologies, quietly backing onto a chair and only making a face at Inukashi once Shion’s back was turned. They stuck out their tongue in response, grinned at Rikiga’s scowl, and assumed victory when the old man snapped.

“Now look here you damn brat—“

“Coffee,” Shion announced, stepping carefully between them to set two cups on the table at their respective elbows. “Shall I bring out the cream?”

“What happened to your neck?” Inukashi asked, reflexively, head cocked to examine the small red marks that trailed from Shion’s ear down to his collar. Not immediately noticeable from a distance, but quite apparent now that they were nearly level.

“Ahh…” Shion trailed off, straightening, one hand flying self-consciously to his neck—knowing immediately what Inukashi was talking about and where it was and that alone was enough to raise suspicion. “Well, that would be—“

“A rash?” Rikiga immediately leapt to the defensive, protective position he so preferred, regardless of whether or not he was ever as good as his word. “Shion, if you’re ill please sit down and rest, one of us can take over.”

“Ah, no, it’s nothing like—”

“It looks like you got bit by a mouse,” Inukashi said, flat, eyes narrowed.

“Well, you could say that…” Shion trailed off into a nervous laugh that spoke volumes.

“Pest problems!” Rikiga planted his fist on the table with resolve, causing the coffee in both cups to sway dangerously. “My dear boy, you need only say the word and I’ll round the vermin up with my own hands. I’d never allow Karan’s son to live in such squalor.”

Shion’s placating smile was looking progressively more like a grimace. “That won’t be necessary, really—”

“Stop trying to suck up, old man,” Inukashi snapped, frustrated by the lack of any real answer.

“Don’t you talk down to me, damn brat, I have a real concern for his wellbeing and a genuine desire to help resolve whatever this problem is!”

“If you’d keep your trap shut for five seconds maybe you’d  _know_  what the problem is!”

The metallic snap of a latch being wrenched open cut through the argument with the force of a gunshot. The door to Shion’s bedroom swung inward with a muffled whoosh of wood against carpet and somehow Inukashi didn’t expect to see the person who stormed through it, regardless of the fact that every sign they could possibly have asked for was right there, from the moment they’d set foot inside.

“Fuckin’ noisy,” Nezumi growled, husky with sleep, hair in a tangled tumble over his bare shoulders, gray eyes narrowed dangerously, and that was literally all he said before turning and stalking into the bathroom like an irate cat.

Inukashi and Rikiga both watched this progression, wide-eyed and silent, and only when the bathroom door swung firmly shut did the tableau in the kitchen break apart.

“EVE!” Rikiga’s voice boomed, driving the man to his feet and he turned in furious confusion back and forth from Shion’s nervous chuckle to the closed bathroom door and back. “What’s that stage hack doing back here?”

Inukashi’s teeth were grinding together, a writhing ball of fury and barely concealed hurt rising up in their chest, expanding, small brown fists curling and trembling until they lurched up out of the chair and marched to the closed door. “Nezumi!”

The water faucet turned on. Somewhere behind them Rikiga was wibbling in barely concealed horror while Shion attempted to placate him.

“That third-rate actor, he’s seduced you, hasn’t he? Taken advantage of your innocence!”

“Rikiga-san, that’s a little—”

Inukashi slammed their fist on the door, and the brown dog at their side growled in unison. “Dammit, Nezumi, open up! Where the hell have you been? How long have you been back here?”

_Why didn’t you contact me?_

“Shion, you can’t give in to his wicked advances. He’ll gobble you up like a fox eating a field mouse.”

“Rikiga-san—”

“I’ll get rid of him for you, right now. I’ll drag him out of here by the ponytail if I have to. Think of the terrible influence he’d be on Azami—”

“You think you can just come back here to see Shion and not us? Who do you think saved your sorry ass four years ago?” Inukashi bared their teeth at the white paneled wood like it might be scared away with a simple expression. “You ungrateful bastard. You should have stayed gone, I never want to see your ugly face again!”

The door opened abruptly, squeaking on its hinges, and Nezumi stared down (albeit less far down than he used to) with a dour expression. He’d donned a shirt, and his hair was drawn to one side, presumably to make use of the maliciously brandished comb in his hand.

“Say what you will about me, but don’t ever insult my face again.” He nudged Inukashi with the comb, prodding their shoulder. “Appreciate beauty when you see it.”

“My ass.”

“Such venom.” Nezumi tilted his head, smirking suddenly, and Inukashi knew it well enough to know it was the prelude for an attack, and they were too close to escape. The dog growled a warning.

But the hands that cupped their cheeks were simple and gentle, unassuming. Thumbs brushing away the tears they hadn’t even realized were there.

“Really now,” Nezumi cooed, and Inukashi grumbled a curse in response. “I’ve only been back a couple of days.”

“Idiot.”

“You’ve grown.”

“Of course I have!” Inukashi jerked away from his touch, stepping back until they were comfortably in their own space again. “If you’ve been back a couple of days, why didn’t you send word?”

“And spoil the surprise?”

“You drama queen.”

Rikiga was on his knees at this point, clinging to Shion’s leg and making a blubbering fuss. Azami’s door was ajar and the little girl herself was staring through it blearily, hair askew, one tiny fist rubbing her eyes. Inukashi sighed in a huff, arms crossing, jerking their head towards the kitchen. “You’d better go rescue your airhead, since you saw fit to mark him up.”

Nezumi cast a glance over and his lips turned up, teeth showing white behind a smile. There was a different air about him than Inukashi remembered, something mature and honest that he’d never carried before.

Inukashi knelt down to pick Azami up without taking their eyes off of Nezumi, until his attention returned to them.

Shion had changed him, and kept changing him even while he was gone. Shion had changed them all.

“Welcome home,” Inukashi murmured.

There was only a moment of hesitation, a brief flash of the boy Nezumi had been, before he smiled softly.  “I’m home.”


End file.
